Trust The Impossible
by Plaidly Lush
Summary: Late one night on her way home from a raid, Hermione encounters a band of Death Eaters. In hiding from them, another chance encounter occurs, one that is much more unusual.


Trust The Impossible  
  
~The night had been more successful than Hermione had expected when they were called in. The raid that had been closed thirty minutes before had uncovered rooms full of forbidden items in the home of a well-known-but-never-proven Death Eater. Having taken an inventory of all these, they sent the man off to a holding cell while he awaited trial. Hermione was now walking on the streets of London on her way to her flat.   
  
It had taken a few years to ascend the ladder, but Hermione was in the highest ranks of Aurors, above Ron, above even Harry Potter. She was one of the key organizers of raids, and she had been told by Fudge himself that since she started in that particular job, they had found more hidden Dark magic and prohibited paraphernalia than in all three years she was in training. The thought always made her beam with pride.   
  
The city was unsurprisingly empty. It was, after all, a little after two in the morning. In her line of work, it was difficult to keep regular hours, though she tried as hard as she could. Still, she often found herself awake, dwindling away the wee hours of the night…   
  
It seemed more so in the past three or four months. She would lie in bed, trying to call up something that tugged at the corners of her mind, and suddenly hear the clock chime three. How the time passed so without her noticing, she could not say. She had asked Harry if he had the same problem, and he told her that it happened to him frequently. "If you're ever up at one in the morning and need to talk, you can call me, you know," he had offered. "I'll probably be awake anyway. And if I'm not, I don't mind being woken up."   
  
She had never taken up the offer, for the simple, single reason that she would feel guilty if she woke him up. No matter what he told her, Harry liked to sleep. She remembered it well, all the times he slept in until almost noon. He would shrug sheepishly when she mentioned it, then go about his business. He was not the kind of boy- man, really, to care when he woke up. It was difficult to stop thinking of Ron and Harry as the boys she had known at Hogwarts. She always corrected herself, hoping that eventually it would stop.   
  
As the wind picked up, Hermione tugged lightly at the ends of her colorful scarf. It tightened the tiniest bit around her neck, cutting off the chill. She ran her hand briefly through her hair, and instantly regretted it. She was wearing leather gloves, and it always made her hair go wild. A few years ago she had cut it to about an inch past her shoulders, which made quite a difference in its manageability, but no hair could withstand the leather gloves. Except maybe Draco Malfoy's.   
  
"Where did that come from?" she muttered, her eyebrows drawing down in confusion. She thought about him much too often for her liking in the past few months. That was the fourth time that week she had thought of Malfoy, and she could not manage to divine why. Sure, he used to come up *constantly* when they were in school, but she had always written it off to the fact that they had to look at the bloody prat every day. Now, she never saw the guy, and suddenly he would pop unbidden into her mind.   
  
With a sigh, she continued her route home. To her increasing annoyance, Malfoy continued to nag at her thoughts. It did not seem she would be able to convince him to go away, so with an even bigger sigh, she resigned herself to disturbing, perplexing images that flashed across her awareness every so often.   
  
Suddenly, she slowed her steps and bore to the left just a little, walking closer to the buildings lining the street. Something was there, further up, and it was not bothering to keep quiet about it. She drew her wand slowly from her pocket and kept on, not willing to let something she could not see impede her in her progress toward bed.   
  
Instead of remaining the Invisible, Anonymous Threat, the noisy something became a band of Death Eaters, who were apparently ripping up everything in their path for no good reason. She slowed to a complete stop, not knowing whether she should turn around or try to hide inside some building. While she was deciding, she reached into her pocket, searching for the alarm button to send a message to the Ministry. Panic swept her as she realized that hers had broken, and Harry had taken it back to the office for her to be fixed. Either Harry had it, or it was lying on a desk somewhere.   
  
Either way, she was without hope of backup.   
  
Quicker than she could grasp, the door next to her flew open. Something grabbed her by the arm and pulled her into the dark building. It was too dark to tell what or who had hold of her. Whatever it was shut the door without touching it, muttered a charm to seal it, and then dragged her off to a corner.   
  
There were no less than five death eaters within hearing range. She had no idea what this thing was, and therefore had no idea how to escape from it- though it was clearly something with a human form. Screaming would be not good. It would be, in fact, bad. Hermione, having much experience with these kind of things, knew better than to scream.   
  
She was going to do it anyway.   
  
The moment her mouth opened, a hand firmly covered it. Her own hands immediately flew to the arm, trying to pull it away, but the other was much stronger than she was. "If they hear you, we're dead," whoever-it-was said. "Will you be quiet if I take my hand off?"   
  
Hermione nodded, her eyes wide with fear. The hand was removed, and the grip on her arm disappeared as well. She spent a moment breathing heavily to calm herself, and thought it was rather good of her to regain reason so quickly. She realized that any magic she did would be noted by anyone in the vicinity, and she could not risk that. At least, the magic she badly wanted to do at that moment- either a light spell or Apparition.   
  
In the past three years, Apparition had become quite dangerous. Death Eaters had devised a way to detect when someone Disapparated within a mile, and could also latch on and follow them. So far, they had not managed to get their hands on their method. They had started using Portkeys instead, to avoid giving away secret locations where they could lay their hands on important tools of the Ministry.   
  
Light was out of the question; it was much too conspicuous. Still, she had this burning desire to know who had just abducted her. There was something about him- she was sure he was male, after hearing him speak- that was almost familiar. As though she had heard his voice every day for approximately seven years…  
  
"So what are you doing here, Granger?" he asked.   
  
… and been annoyed by it. "You know me?"   
  
"Uh, yeah. I've seen you around."   
  
"Where?" She could sense that she did know this person, but it was not fully in her grasp yet. She had to get him to talk.   
  
"Around. Why is it so important?"   
  
"Well, you know me, so I just thought it was likely that I know you. But I can't tell who you are. You wouldn't mind letting me know, would you?"   
  
There was a short silence. "You used to know me. We went to school together."   
  
"And you were in my year?"   
  
"Oh, come on, Granger. This is ridi- fine. You want to know who I am?" There was an odd sensation, like her eyes were changing, and suddenly she could see quite well in the dark. What she saw could have sent her backward a few steps. A tall, palely blond man with gray eyes stood a few feet from her. He smirked a familiar smirk. "Hello."   
  
"M- Malfoy?" Hermione stuttered.   
  
An eyebrow raised. "Who were you expecting? Tom Riddle?"   
  
Panic welled up in her. As long as they had known Draco Malfoy, she, Ron, and Harry had always assumed that he was already a Death Eater. Welcomed into the ranks earlier than was normal because of his purely evil nature. So, there were Death Eaters outside, and a Death Eater inside. She did the only thing that could really be considered a plausible reaction. That was bolting for the door.   
  
She had not gone ten steps when Draco intercepted her, grabbed her, and trapped her against the wall. She struggled helplessly against him, tears of frustration and even more panic forming in her eyes.   
  
"It won't do you any good. Even if you get away from me, you won't make it to the door. If you do make it out, there is a good chance the others will see you, catch you, and kill you. Call me crazy, but I'd say you have a better chance of surviving if you stop fighting me."   
  
Though she very much wanted to hit him, Hermione had to admit that Malfoy had a point. She stopped struggling, and he backed up a step. No more, and no less. She would have preferred more.   
  
"What do you want from me?" she whispered.   
  
"I don't want anything from you, Granger. I'm trying to help you."   
  
This shocked her, and for a moment she was silent. "Help me, why?"   
  
"Because it's m-" he broke off. He looked at her with an unreadable countenance. "I thought you might want to reward me afterward. Kind of a long shot, but hey. I could get lucky."   
  
Her hand went up, but this was fifteen years after he had let her slap him. He caught her arm in his hand, and did not let go. "Ah-ah. That's not very nice. Be a good girl."   
  
Her eyes narrowed slightly. She yanked her arm out of his grip. "Were you following me?"   
  
"In a sense, yes. In another, no."   
  
"What does that mean?"   
  
"Well, it's sort of complicated."   
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. "I don't think I want to talk to you if you aren't going to tell me anything useful."   
  
"Ah, there's the Hermione Granger I know. Always wanting to learn. Also with the eye roll. Very authentic."   
  
"What? What are you talking about, Malfoy?"   
  
"Well, you seem to have changed a lot, since- um, that is-" He scratched his head awkwardly.   
  
"You *have* been following me, haven't you? I keep getting these strange feelings, and…" She stopped before she completely embarrassed herself. Yes, tell the enemy you've been thinking about him in a completely unwelcome and annoyingly sexual way.   
  
She began to blush, and she was glad it was so dark. But then, he probably had improved night vision as well- whatever he had done to her eyes. So the dark did not make much difference. She would have turned away, but he probably would have stopped her. Instead, she put a hand up to her forehead and leaned down into it.   
  
"I wonder how long it will take for the killing spree to quiet down. They seem to be quite intent on this part of town, for some reason. They're still a ways down the street, but they'll be making their way over fairly soon, you can count on it."   
  
"Oh? How do you know that, did they tell you their evil plan? I bet they offered to let you in on the action, but you were all, 'No thanks, I've reached my killing quota for the day. Why don't you boys head on without me'."   
  
She regretted saying this right away. He had taken a few steps back, but he moved in after she said this. He was almost as close as before- mere inches from her face as he glared down at her. She tried with all her might not to tremble. "I study them."   
  
"Oh," Hermione got out meekly. She wanted to pinch herself for being so outspokenly rude. Of course, Malfoy probably did much worse, but that wasn't her. He turned on his heel and paced in a small area.   
  
"I wish they'd go away though. I hate when I have to stay in one place for so long, just waiting."   
  
"You'd be terrible at stakeouts, then." She crossed her arms in front of her chest.   
  
He stopped to regard her. He did not speak at first, and Hermione found it unnerving the way he looked at her. He smirked again. "No, they just call me in once the out is staked." The pacing resumed.   
  
"What are you doing here?" she asked.   
  
"I was out, though I might get a breath of not-so-fresh air in this musty little store. And you?"   
  
"Well, I was on my way home. Then someone suddenly grabbed me and dragged me into this musty little store. You wouldn't happen to know who that would be, would you?"   
  
He gave her a look, but it seemed that he was more amused by her sarcasm than annoyed. Once again her intent to drive Malfoy crazy had gone astray because of his intolerable… Malfoy-ness. Okay, it wasn't a word, but that was all she could think to call it.   
  
"So why did you drag me in here? What do you want?" she was still wary of the situation. It was dark in this store, none of her friends knew she was here, and for all she knew Malfoy was simply waiting, keeping her there so he could hand her over to his fellow Death Eaters.   
  
"I already told you," he said. "I'm here to help you."   
  
"And you expect me to believe it?" she laughed.   
  
"Well, why not?"   
  
"Why not? Malfoy, do you know what you are saying? Are you aware of what you are to me?" Hermione realized that last question could be interpreted in any number of ways.   
  
"A sexy beast?"   
  
"You're half right," she muttered. "You're the kid who tried your very hardest to make my life, and the lives of my closest friends, miserable for seven years. Why on earth would you want to help me now."   
  
"You're going to make assumptions based on something that happened more than ten years ago?" he relented. "All right, it was more than something, but still. When did I ever do anything that was really that bad?"   
  
She called up the worst thing she could think of. "You said you wished I would die in second year. That's pretty bad, if you ask me."   
  
"Well, I- wait a second. How did you know that?" Malfoy wondered sharply.   
  
"Oh, how? Um, you know. Crabbe and Goyle were never too bright. They must have let it slip sometime. I don't remember exactly." She flexed her fingers, and stiffened slightly, but let nothing show on her face. She had just remembered that she was holding her wand. That whole entire time, she had been holding her wand, but she had let him push her around.   
  
Malfoy sighed. "Yeah, that could have happened. I tell you, those two were *dull*. And I don't mean personality. I mean their light bulbs were badly in need of changing. Their batteries were running low. You know?"   
  
"What, you're not still tight with those two?"   
  
"Are you kidding? I dumped them as soon as I could. I don't think I could have handled them for much longer. I'm surprised I didn't lose brain cells each day, hanging around with them. I hear stupidity can be contagious."   
  
Hermione suppressed the urge to laugh. Here she was, stuck with an enemy, and laughing at his jokes. It was too much. She had to act quickly.   
  
As soon as he turned away, her wand shot out, pointing at him. "Accio wand!" she declared, and his wand came zooming into her hand. She kept hers pointed at him, directly at his chest.   
  
He stood very still, a look in his eyes that she could have taken for pleading if she had not known better. "Hermione…"   
  
"Be quiet," she instructed. He did not speak. "Good. Now, I'm going to ask you some questions. I want answers, and I want them to be complete truth. Otherwise some kind of hex might slip out accidentally. You know, sometimes I just can't control my magic, it's that powerful."   
  
"Please, Herm-"   
  
"Shh. Not until I ask. All right?" Malfoy nodded, then was still. He was like a statue almost. It was disconcerting thinking of him as a person when he did that. "What do you want?"   
  
"I already told you. It's not my fault you don't believe me."   
  
Hermione sighed, shaking her head. "Do you not believe that I'll hex you? There are many ways to hurt someone without using Dark magic, you know-"   
  
"I'm telling the truth, I swear!"   
  
She stared into his eyes. "Fine. If you won't tell me that, I'll ask a simpler question. Are you a Death Eater?"   
  
"No."   
  
Immediately, she advanced on him. He was against the wall with her wand stabbing into his chest in a flash. "Are you a Death Eater?" she repeated.   
  
"No. Come on! What's your deal? When I tell you the truth, you act like you want to kill me. You were just hoping that I was a silly pawn of evil, weren't you?"   
  
"Why should I believe what you say?"   
  
"I'm not apt to take threats from capable witches lightly," he told her seriously.   
  
He had a point. She let him away from the wall, but her wand still hovered. "If you aren't a Death Eater, then what… I mean…what do I mean?" The last bit was said quietly to herself, but she was sure Malfoy heard it.   
  
"Listen, Hermione. If had wanted to hurt you it would have been easy enough in the beginning when you were panicky and girly. Please, don't hurt me. But I'm in here too. I'm in here with you, waiting for a bunch of Voldie's little playthings to burst in and attack. I would much rather be at home in front of the telly, believe me."   
  
Hermione's wand lowered after brief deliberation, but she watched him with apprehension. "I still think you've been following me."   
  
Malfoy fell into the nearest chair. "I don't know what to say to that. Maybe you're delusional? Wishful thinking? Who could guess?"   
  
"Well, how did you know I'd be here, then?" She crossed her arms again, tapping her foot.   
  
Three separate times it looked as though Malfoy was about to answer, before he discarded his words and began to search for others. He seemed close to finishing when a huge crash sounded at the door. He sprang up, pulling her into the shadows by her waist. His arm remained there when the pulling was over.   
  
"The sealing charm will only hold for so long," he said, as quietly as he could. He spoke right in her ear. It was difficult to repress the shivers it tried to cause through her entire body. "They'll find us without any trouble once they get in. Give me my wand."   
  
Hermione looked down to find his hand out, palm up, waiting. His eyes were silently asking her to trust him. Should she? Everything he said had made sense, but he was Malfoy. And she still didn't trust him. *Then why are you standing there with his arm protectively across your waist?*   
  
In the end, she knew she had to take the chance. He was right about one thing, if nothing else. As soon as they entered, the Death Eaters would turn the place upside down to find them. Malfoy seemed to know what he was doing. She forced herself to place the wand in his hand.   
  
As the door opened in a shower of wood chips, Malfoy put a spell on the two of them. Hermione felt a wave of…something sweep over her, and she felt horror for a moment. She thought that he had done something to her. Without thinking, she opened her mouth to ask him what the spell was. His hand covered it, and he put a finger to his pursed lips to indicate silence.   
  
Hermione closed her eyes and tipped her head back slightly, resolving to wait until the Death Eaters had gone before she would open them. She was sure Malfoy was watching her, though she could not say why. His hand held lightly onto her arm. Somehow it was a comfort to know he was there, and she broke her resolve. She looked up at him. A strange feeling of déjà vu made her want to shiver, but she held it in, fearing that it might attract their enemies.   
  
"There's no one here," one of them said a few minutes later. That particular one was facing Hermione and Malfoy. "If there was, they must have left a while ago. Come on, I think it's time we pack it in. We can always find someone to have fun with on the way, right?"   
  
They laughed, starting for the door. Hermione closed her eyes with relief, catching herself before she leaned into Malfoy for support. Their respite was short-lived; the Death Eaters stopped at the door, at once whipping out their wands. Hermione could not see the door, and so did not know the cause of their sudden battle mode.   
  
A duel ensued. It only took Hermione a moment to realize that the Death Eaters were fighting Aurors, and it took her a fraction of a second afterward to see Harry and Ron among them. She took a reflexive step forward, but Malfoy held her back.   
  
"I have to help them," she told him, though she knew her expression did not tell him to let her go. Instead, she simply turned back to watch the spells fly back and forth when he did not release her.   
  
In a rather short time that seemed forever to Hermione, two of the Death Eaters were unconscious on the floor of the shop, and the others were gone. The Aurors went to work clearing up the mess. Harry and Ron put their wands into their sleeves, coming together to confer briefly.   
  
"Hermione would have passed here on her way to her flat," Ron said.   
  
"Do you think we should go check on her?" Harry asked. Ron nodded, and the two of them turned toward the exit.   
  
"Malfoy, undo it," she commanded. He did without hesitation, and she ran forward.   
  
"Harry, Ron, I'm here! Don't go out looking for me, you're not going to find me anywhere else." They laughed and engulfed her in a hug.   
  
"We're glad you're okay," Harry told her. "You are, right?" She saw his eyes flicker behind her briefly, but he made no move to acknowledge Malfoy.   
  
"Yes, I'm fine. I saw the Death Eaters far down the street, and I came to hide in here."   
  
"How did they not find you?" asked Ron.  
  
"Well, I…" she gestured toward Malfoy.   
  
Harry and Ron adopted stiffly tolerant expressions. Did they seem a bit…forced?   
  
"Malfoy."   
  
"Potter. Weasley."   
  
"Malfoy."   
  
  
  
They stood awkwardly silent for the space of three seconds, upon which second Malfoy spoke. "Well, looks like you've got everything under control. I'll be off, then. See you, Granger." He departed without a backward glance- that Hermione saw.   
  
"He wasn't bothering you, was he?" Ron growled. It was less than full-throated.   
  
"No, in fact he… he helped me." She stared off the way he had gone, a curious look in her eyes.   
  
She did not miss the way Ron and Harry glanced at each other over her head when they thought she wasn't looking.   
  
"Hermione, shouldn't you be getting home?"   
  
"What? Oh, yes, Harry. I was about to do that. Do one of you mind walking me? I'm in the mood for some air, and just in case there are any more groups of roving Death Eaters, I don't think I'll be lucky enough to run into an old school enemy to protect me twice in one night."   
  
Harry's eyes flickered with something he was hiding. Hermione had learned to read him with ease over so many years. "We'll both take you, right Ron?"   
  
"Of course. Come on, Hermione. We'll have you in your bed in no time…er…or not."   
  
Ron had never been able to stop tripping over his tongue when it came to the matter of her and anything bedroom related. They had dated years ago, for two weeks. Those two weeks had been a complete disaster. No matter how they both tried, everything went wrong. That was when they decided to just leave it at friends.   
  
Hermione closed the door on her friends after they had spent an hour there having tea. She sighed with the contentment of much-needed solitude. Now she would be able to think. In her room, she began to remove her clothes and mull over the night's events.   
  
Malfoy had known exactly where she was, and had known exactly when to jump in to help her. He *had* to be following her. And then he had helped her. He turned out to be not evil after all. It was completely new for her, and would take some getting used to, but she liked the feeling of Malfoy not being evil.   
  
*Why do I care so much?* she asked herself. If Malfoy was going to be evil, that would just be a good excuse to hex him. It was disappointing, she told herself. But the rest of her remained unconvinced. It lightened her spirit for some reason, to know that he was one she could trust. Even if she would have always considered him untruthful in the past.   
  
There was something large nagging at the back of her mind. Like a repressed memory that she very much wanted to remember, but it was repressed for a reason. As though she was protecting herself, or someone else entirely was protecting her from something she might not be able to handle. Which was ridiculous. She could handle anything. And she would really like to remember.   
  
As she lay between her soft, silky bed sheets, a thought came to her. It was as though it had been abruptly poked in by her mind's finger. Oh, what an odd image that gave her. She came back to the thought quick enough. It was not the right one. It was not the something large that was nagging. It was something new, something that would nag her just as much now that she had noticed it.   
  
When they were alone in the shop, Malfoy had called her by her first name. He had called her Hermione. He had not even been conscious of the switch, she did not think. He had spoken to her as though they were old acquaintances that did not have a desire to curse each other every time they crossed paths. It was an odd feeling, not wanting to curse Malfoy. Though she still had this itch in her hand, as though slapping him would give her some kind of pleasure.   
  
The most annoying part of the whole business was not that he had called her Hermione. The worst was that she desperately wanted to hear it again. She called up the memory of him speaking to her, and fell asleep listening to the sound of his voice speaking her name.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
A/N: I'm pretty sure I caught all the typos and stuff… EEK!   
  
Ah, well. This is something I've been thinking of for a while, one of my brainchildren. Hehe. I have many of those. Anyway, I was going to leave it there, at first, but then I decided to continue it, and so this is a little series of three one-shots. It's not necessarily conclusive, but it'll give you a bit more than this. Ahem, so I'll be posting again soon if you people will only review!!!!!!!!!! Um, confetti? 


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